tedwords

"So, Chad's mother wants us to look at another apartment."

I was driving my oldest, Annie, to the supermarket, preparing for a fabulous Mexican feast. "I'm well confused," I said. "You've already picked out another apartment."

"I know."

"You've already signed the lease."

"I know."

"You've already handed over the security deposit."

"I know!" Annie sat in the passenger's seat and held her belly, as her baby squirmed around inside her. "But she says this is a bargain that we can't turn down. The place is about $950, and--"


"I'm right bamboozled," I said. "That's more than what you're paying now."

"I know."

"And it's more than some of the places where I live, which you thought were great."

"I know."

"And you said you couldn't afford those places, but this is more."

"I know!" Annie giggled. "But this one is a three bedroom."

"What does that matter? If you can't afford a lower-priced one, how can you afford--"

"It gets better." Annie paused and looked out the window, still holding her belly. "I didn't tell you why she knows the place opened up."

"Oh, God!"

"See, Chad's sister lives in the apartment above, and the guy on the floor below used to be a family friend. Notice I said 'used.' He died last week."

I shook my head. "Annie, do you really want to live in a dead man's apartment?"

"It gets better. Then Chad's mother told us exactly how he died. Said it was horrible. Said he had this weird disease that caused all his blood to flow out of every orifice as he was dying. Apparently the stains are so bad that they still can't get some of them out."

Well, that's a keeper.

Paint me a superstitious one, but I don't like to move into places that have histories like that, especially recent histories. Josie and I, when we bought the Homestead, knew that the previous owner had passed away there. He had been rather obsese and suffered a heart attack on the second floor. They had trouble getting him downstairs, from what I hear.

However, his wife had lived there for years after he died, so it hadn't been recent. Even so, both Josie and Ashes see things on the stairwell where they would have carried him down.

In our first apartment together, Corb and I both had numerous instances involving the ghost of the old man who lived there before. He used to come to visit Corb at night. Not that Corb's adverse to old men, but this one was too little creepy. Our cat Thumbkin died in the apartment, too, and for months afterwards, Corb would feel something move to the foot of the bed at the end of the day, as we were preparing to go to bed.

Bottom line, bargain hunters: I'm a bit happy that Annie did not decide to take advantage of this fabulous offer. Sometimes what came before can have a huge influence on what comes afterwards, if you ask me. Better to let sleeping corpses rest.

"You sure you have a good grip on your end?"

"I’m sure."

"You sure you’re sure?"

"Just keep pushing," grumbled Corb. "That's it...push...PUSH! And don’t—ouch! Ted, stop that!"

Okay, before your minds sink any further into the gutter, I should tell you that Corb and I were in the process of lifting a heavy futon up a flight of stairs, and I had just given it a bit too much heave-ho, heaving the end of the futon into Corb's firm, tight buttocks.

"Sorry about that, Corb," I said, sheepishly. I sat there, waiting patiently at the bottom of the stairs, while Corb placed his end down for a minute.

During our brief rest, Annie's slacker boyfriend, Chad, entered from the front door, his arms empty of bags or items. He took a look at us, lifting HIS futon up the stairs, smiled, and made his way to the second floor. We watched as he grabbed a small bag of pillows and ran up the stairs to the third floor.

Chad's lack of assistance seemed to give Corb newfound energy. Instantly, Corb lifted his end of the futon, and we reached the second floor walkway, in seconds flat. Corb placed the futon down on the ground, brushed himself off, and announced, "That’s it. I’m done. Chad can do the rest!"

I grinned. "Let's go."

The two of us were helping Annie start the latest chapter in her life: moving out into her own apartment. She had moved out from Josie's house a few years ago, and lived, briefly with a roommate for a short while, but that had not worked out, and she had decided to moved in with Josie's parents, in the basement apartment that Josie had lived in when I first started dating her. That stay was, I think, comforting, but also full of challenges, especially after Chad moved in with her.

So, after settling in at her new job, Annie set her sight on a new goal: moving out on her own, with Chad, into their own apartment. In some ways, I consider it their first apartment together, since Chad had never truly been an "official" resident of the grandparent apartment. Josie's parents refused to let him shower there, and so he would travel, each morning, to his father's apartment, to shower there.

Corb and I left the futon where it was, and headed up the stairs.

Josie was sitting upstairs, sitting at a rickety kitchen table with Annie. I allowed myself another look around the room. For a first aprtment, it was spatious, and had a lot of potential: ample closet space, a nice bathtub, and an open deck that is going to be simply terrific this summer, for it overlooks a field where the town of North Eldredge holds an annual Fireworks display.

But then...on the other hand...

( Read more... )

Last night, Corb and I were walking through the local Mall. We were looking to use up all the gift certificates that I had collected during Christmas. It's sort of a modern day variation of Bingo, I suppose.

He suddenly stopped to stare down at his new sneakers. "I think I love my new shoes," he said, contentedly.

I personally thought he was a little out of his head, but I kept my thoughts to myself. However, it's possible that his newfound shoe love rubbed off on me, just a little bit, because it got me to thinking (and not in a good way) about the two pairs of shoes that I typically wear to work. One pair has been worn so much that it had forced me to fall back on a pair of penny loafers my grandmother bought me years ago. And as Corb is fond of saying, "There's a reason that penny loafers went out of style. Years ago."

So, after picking up two new pairs of pants and two new shirts, we trekked over to a shoe store, and I bought myself a brand new pair of shoes.

And I have to admit, I am now experiencing a bit of shoe love, myself. I like the way they feel, I like the way my feet fit into them, I like the leather smell they have when I take them off. They are a bit squarish, I will confess, and I'm having trouble adjusting to that. That seems to be the style nowadays, but I have to admit, I think if I stuck a big old buckle on the front, I'd fit right in with the Pilgrims.

###

Ashes likes it when I type on the computer, while she's falling asleep. I think she finds it soothing.

###

But the big news occurred when I went to pick Corb up from work. Annie was working the front desk, and she was whispering with Corb as I entered.

"Guess who's staying here tonight?" Corb asked-announced, as I reached the check-in area.

"Not Sadaam Hussein," I replied.

"My biological father," said Annie, grimly.
( Read more... )